


Trapped

by firecracker189



Series: Our Little Family [14]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Big Brother!Tony, Gen, Little!Bruce, Mommy!Natasha, Non-Sexual Age Play, daddy!Phil, little!Clint, little!steve, nsap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-24 01:46:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15619776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firecracker189/pseuds/firecracker189
Summary: Clint gets...lost...while on a mission.





	Trapped

**Author's Note:**

> Clint's codeword is 'Jenga' because that's what gets most frequently lost in the tower. Jenga pieces or Legos. But mostly Jenga pieces because people fling them when they get upset. It's a word that only someone from the tower would know, meaning that Tony inputs it into the system when he's coding, so he knows whether it's really Clint or not.

“Why’d it have to be a fucking cave?” Clint muttered to himself for the billionth time, sloshing through the disgusting wetness as he attempted to find his way back to the skylight he’d dropped down from. He tapped at his hearing aid. “Hello? Can anyone hear me?” There was an almighty crackle that made him yelp and curse and then Phil’s voice came on.

“Clint. Thank God. What happened to you? We all made it to the rendezvous point except for you. I’ve got Tony and Natasha out looking for you.”

“Um. Long story. Short version? Got thrown into a snowdrift that I didn’t know was covering the opening of a cave and now I’m trapped.” He sounded a bit pinched as he spoke.

“Shit.” Phil muttered. “Is your tracker working?”

Clint tapped at the bracelet he wore. “Negative. It’s busted. And my wrist might be too,” he added as an afterthought, as the appendage throbbed horribly.

“Alright um… sit tight. I’ll relay the info to Tony and see if we can come up with something else. Don’t move. Stay exactly where you are,” he clarified again, as Clint’s aid took up the dull humming that meant he was effectively on hold. He stood in the cool sludge and shivered as a breeze ripped through the tunnel.

“Get a grip, Barton,” he murmured to himself. “It’s bigger than you think. Not a small space. Just dark and you can’t see just how big it is.” His skin crawled and he bit his lip as he went through a few mental exercises to calm himself.

“Clint?” Phil broke into his thoughts.

“Yeah, boss?” He failed to hide the tremor in his voice, and he knew Phil would know exactly what was happening, because well, Phil knew almost everything about him.

“Clint, I talked to Tony and Natasha. Tony says there’s a backup tracker in your quiver and your shoes. He’s activating it remotely, but until he gets there with Natasha I want you to—“

“Stay put, I know.” Clint grumbled, as a soft red light lit up the darkness. There was a little beep that echoed off wet rock, and then JARVIS spoke up.

_This is an emergency protocol. Do not be alarmed. Tracking procedures for Clint Barton have been activated remotely. If you are in a secure location and are able to speak aloud, please confirm your status by stating your name and the appropriate code word._

Clint cleared his throat, somewhat heartened by JARVIS’ company. “JARVIS, this is Agent Barton confirming vocal ID. Codeword is Jenga.”

JARVIS beeped quietly. _Thank you for confirming, Agent Barton. You have given the appropriate code word, so I am assuming you are in a safe place and can hold a conversation. I must now perform necessary scans to confirm you are not in need of urgent medical care and can hold your own for an indefinite amount of time. Please rate your pain if you are experiencing any kind on a scale of one to ten whilst I scan your body for any injuries._ The red beam projected outwards and down his body, then back up slowly. _Scanners detect possible concussion and fractured wrist on the left side. These are the most serious injuries you have. Is that correct?_

Clint confirmed that it was correct.

_Please rate the pain of the injuries, starting with the concussion._

“Head’s pounding. I’d say it’s about a six at this point.”

_Please rate the pain of the fractured wrist._

Fortunately the pain had dulled somewhat, his body having become accustomed to it in recent hours. “Five.” He murmured, knowing it wasn’t really JARVIS, but a pre-programmed variant Tony had installed in most SHIELD tech. This one couldn’t tell if he was lying. Not like their JARVIS, who sassed back and asked questions and fussed over them like a mother hen. Clint leaned against the wall and sighed. He missed _that_ JARVIS.

_Pain ratings for Clint Barton total to eleven. You are not in need of serious medical care. Please remain in your location until a member of your team can come assist you. Suggested treatments for fractured wrist and concussion include splinting and staying awake. Estimated time to the arrival of your team member is two hours fifty-nine minutes. Your subterranean location will make it slower for them to reach you. You have gone into the tunnel system rather than towards the exit. Be advised of bat activity, and that bats can often carry rabies. If bitten inform me immediately, as this disease can be fatal. I will periodically update you of progress._

And then the AI was gone with a chirp, though the light remained, which Clint was grateful for. It was only really useful in underwater, nighttime, and in his case subterranean rescue. Clint tapped his ear again. “P-Phil?”

“Clint. I’ve got a holo here that shows your readouts. Concussion and fractured wrist?”

“Yep.” He mumbled back wearily.

“I’ll have Tony splint it when he comes to get you. How are you holding up?” There was a bit of scuffling in the background. “Stevie, no!” There was another scuffle, then Bucky’s murmured apology.

“Um, I’m…not so good. Phil, this darkness is killing me, even with the beacon. I…I’m feeling…”

“Claustrophobic?” Phil hummed. “Not surprised after the time you spent stuffed in that trunk in Caracas. It’s going to be slow going for Tony to get his suit through that cave system. It’ll take longer than normal for him to get to you.”

“Nat?”

“She’s coming with him. Do you really think I’d say no to her when it’s _you_ we’re talking about?”

Clint smiled despite himself. “No, Papa.” It came out unbidden, without warning, and surprised him. But once he’d said it he felt the keen loss from head to toe, wanting to curl up and cry because he missed him so much. He hadn’t even known he was close to slipping until he’d already slipped.

“Clint, I need you to answer me honestly. No lying, because you’re gonna be down there for a while. Are you little right now?”

Clint nodded miserably, realized that Papa couldn’t see, and let out a little whine that echoed off the walls and scared him. “Y-Yes, Papa. M’real little,” he murmured, only becoming more and more scared the smaller he got. Something down the way was making gurgling sounds and it had his knees knocking together.

“That’s okay. I’m gonna stay right here and I’ll talk to you. I think Bucky is about to read a story to Stevie and Bruce, do you want to listen?”

“But Bruce is a big boy,” Clint protested, a few tears falling down his cheeks.

“Even big boys want to have story time every now and then,” it was Bruce, and Clint didn’t feel so alone anymore. “Phil’s got you on speaker, little bird.”

“Wanna hear a story, Clinty?” Bucky asked, and Clint whimpered softly. There was a shuffling noise and a few of Stevie’s little coos, and then Bucky started reading. His deep voice was soothing and he could hear Bruce laugh every now and again in a tired way that meant he needed a nap ‘cause Hulk made him real sleepy, and even Papa laughed sometimes. He was reading Harry Potter, and Clint _loved_ Harry Potter! He loud out a choked whine as Uncle Bucky read about the Dursleys and the weird cat sitting on the wall outside their house. “Papa!” he yelped, and all activity ceased. Papa’s voice sounded closer and softer, and he knew he wasn’t on speaker anymore.

“What is it? Are you hurt more? Is something there with you?” Papa sounded worried and it made Clint sniffle. He was too scared to cry out loud because the gurgling sound was louder than it was before and all he wanted was to run, but JARVIS had said stay put and—

“Papa, m’wet.” He whispered, cheeks flaming with embarrassment as he shuffled in the muck of the cave. It had just happened without warning, and now Tasha and Tony would find him stinky and wet and it would be embarrassing!

“Oh, that’s alright,” Phil hurried to assure. “There’s no potty down there, it’s okay love. We forgive you for that, we know you couldn’t make it until you were back on the jet.”

Clint wanted to suck on his fingers so badly, but they were icky so he restrained himself. “But Tony!” he tried to explain.

“Tony won’t fault you either, love. And you know Tasha won’t. They’re just glad you’re okay, I promise. They’re on their way, and then they’re gonna take you back to see us, and then we can all go home together.”

“Papa, I’m scared!” he whispered, stifling another sob. “Something’s making scary noises and and…” he whined quietly.

“It’s alright. Nothing’s down there that’s bigger than you are,” Phil assured.

“Time?” Clint begged, giving up and sitting down. The icky mud squelched under his bottom and he knew he’d be a mess when they finally got him out.

“Two hours and fifteen minutes. I know you’re scared, honey, but you’re going to have to be strong for a while and wait, okay?”

Clint cradled his injured wrist against his chest. “So long!” he cried, impatient. “Get here sooner,” he pleaded. “Talk to Tony, please!”

“Okay, alright. Calm down and hang on. I’ll patch you to Tony but you have to promise to be nice.” Phil tapped at a few controls.

“Be nice,” Clint insisted tearfully. “Talk to Tony!”

The line beeped. “Clint?” It was grainy sounding due to the use of the suit’s walkie-talkie function, but definitely Tony.

“Tony!” Clint sniffled.

“Aw, hey buddy. Listen, Nat and I are on the way, alright? We’re trying as hard as we can to get there, but you’re gonna need to wait a little bit. It’s muddy and my suit keeps getting stuck so it’s going to be a slow process, alright? But we’ll be there soon.”

“Be here sooner, please!” Clint begged, full on crying now as he listened to the scary noise in the distance. “M’scared an’ there’s a scary noise and…and…m’wet!” he finished.

“I can’t get there any sooner, buddy. You’re going to have to sit tight for a while while we come to you. I’m sorry that this happened to you, and I’m sorry you had an accident, but I can’t help you until we get there. Now I’m gonna let you talk to Phil for a little bit, okay?”

“M’kay. Love you.”

“I love you too, buddy. Hang in there.” The line beeped as it swapped channels and then Phil was on again.

“Hey, little bird. Do you feel better now that you’ve talked to Tony?”

“No,” he whispered miserably. “Rash.” He squirmed slightly and then hissed as he jostled his wrist.

“I know, that’s bound to happen given the circumstances and the fact that you’re wearing your suit. But I’ll put some cream on it when you get back, okay?”

“Kay. And…and cuddles? With um, with pacifier?” He asked, feeling smaller than usual.

“Yes baby, I can do that. I’m gonna give you the biggest hug when you get back here, and clean you up, and then we can have as many cuddles as you want.”

“Tony cuddles too?”

“I’ll make sure Tony is with us, too. You and me and Tony and Tasha. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds good,” he admitted, feeling a little better now. He even wasn’t so scared of the gurgling noise anymore.

“Okay. It’s a deal. Now, I think Bucky wants to keep reading, if you’d like to listen.”

* * *

 

The rest of the time passed much faster when he was listening to Uncle Bucky read. He did funny voices that made Clint and Stevie laugh. But even that didn’t help his attitude much. He was fussy by the time Tony and Natasha slogged through the mud towards him. The tracker beeped again to update him of progress, and he stood up in excitement. Only ten minutes! That wasn’t long at all! He’d have done a happy dance if his arm wasn’t hurting and his thighs didn’t have an itchy rash. So he just stood still and waited, grimy face streaked with tear tracks, until a light came down the tunnel. “Tony!” he cried, running for the light as fast as he could.

“Oh, boy am I glad to see you!” Tony laughed as Clint came barreling into his chest. The arc reactor kept the entire passage lit for several feet, and Clint was never gladder to see it. “Momma!” he squeaked excitedly as he noticed her standing behind Tony.

“Hi, baby.” Her smile was relieved. She looked him over thoroughly and clucked when she got to his wrist. “Let me fix that,” Natasha bent down and rummaged in her backpack before pulling out a splint. “Here. Slide that on,” She slipped it over his wrist and he bit his lip as the bones aligned themselves. “Good as new. Now keep that on until one of us says you can take it off.” She ordered, putting the pack back on again.

“Come on, let’s get you back to the jet.” Tony spoke fondly, moving to the front of the little group. The reactor glinted and sparkled in the darkness, lighting up the way so they could see the twists and turns.

Clint was tripping over his own feet by the time Tony got them back to the vent and to the surface. As soon as their feet contacted the earth, Natasha had whisked him up onto her hip, carrying him the last couple of miles to the jet. Everyone there was glad to see them, Stevie squealing happily and Phil and Bucky giving relieved smiles. Bruce had fallen asleep, nestled into a pile of pillows in the corner, tucked under an oversized weighted blanket to soothe his frayed nerves. He wore noise cancelling headphones and a cooling eye mask, the top of his messy hair just showing over the blanket.

Natasha immediately dropped her pack on the ground and replaced it with Clint’s bright purple duffel—his littlespace bag. He whined loudly and shifted against her and she shushed him. “I know, darling. I know. Don’t you worry. I’m gonna get you cleaned up and changed, and then we can cuddle, hmm?” She shut the bathroom door behind her and sat him on top of the toilet. “JARVIS, turn on the sanitizer, please.” The tiny high powered shower turned itself on and she worked the pieces of Clint’s suit off his body, grimacing as the smell of ammonia met her nostrils. She quickly and efficiently bagged them for sanitizing, then helped him stand. “There. Under you go.” She gently pushed him and he stood under the spray, grime and urine washing off his body. Once a minute had elapsed the water turned off, and she got him dry just in time for his meltdown. “I know, I know…” she cooed as she laid him down, quickly diapering him, adding rash cream, and getting him into a pair of pajamas. That done, she carried him into the main cabin again and set him down in the nest of blankets with Stevie, who immediately curled up against him and cooed softly.

Natasha handed him his pacifier and he blushed, cause he really wasn't that little!! But...he wanted it and he'd been so scared! So he put it in his mouth and cuddled up to Stevie, patting the baby's head softly. Clint was very, very glad to be back above ground.


End file.
